Jabberwocky
by Literate Society
Summary: "Two cubes you know must find each of a separate kind in order to save the Doctor King the Jabberwock Chessboard is the thing!" Disclaimer: I own no characters. I came up with the story but the characters belong to the BBC. Story inspired by the poem 'Jabberwocky'. Please R and R
1. Chapter 1

_`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves  
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:  
All mimsy were the borogoves,  
And the mome raths outgrabe. _

Sherlock Holmes was lying on the sofa with his hands resting together against his lips and chin, his thumbs resting under his chin. He was thinking about Moriarty. _Who was Moriarty? _It was what consumed his thoughts right now. It was not for nothing, it was for everything. As I watched Sherlock think and think and think, I thought to myself, _This man I see before me, he is as obsessed with Moriarty as Moriarty is with him._

It was not a new sight to my eyes but it is one that I don't think I will ever forget. It is clearer to me now that he will always be looking for an answer. Whether it is for the cases that he works or for finding out who his biggest fan is, he puts the same amount of work in each. The same amount of gusto, the same work ethic, the same passion and determination that I have grown accustomed to.

"John," Sherlock spoke for the first time in two days.

"So the creature finally speaks! What do you want Sherlock?" I said annoyed. I shouldn't have been but I was.

"I need my phone."

"Where is it?"

"Table."

"Sherlock, it's about two feet away."

"I'm thinking."

I trudged over and handed him the phone.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement; it was nearly imperceptible, but it was better than nothing, I suppose.

He began scrolling through his texts making little comments out loud. "Mycroft must be getting a crown this time. He should really stop eating those "Sugar Free" muffins. The aspartame is rotting his teeth."

"Lestrade, look for the woman with pink finger nails and green gardening gloves."

"Forget him he's an idiot."

"The butler did it."

These were all distractions from the primary issue. It was the shower principle without the running water.

He set the phone on the coffee table and set his hands to his temples, rubbing his fingers in a circular motion. He started muttering in angry sounding gibberish.

A while later I learned that it was Klingon. Sherlock had become fluent while working on a case at a Star Trek convention. It was the only language the witnesses were willing to speak, not wanting to break character. They started calling Sherlock "Khan" for some reason.

My phone beeped. It was Harry wondering if we could meet for lunch tomorrow. I texted back yes. I had barely seen her in the past three months. While we were never close, once she had stopped drinking we had begun to realize we had the capability to be more than just civil to each other. We could have a "normal" brother/sister relationship.

I went into the kitchen to make some tea but couldn't find any clean mugs. Sherlock had been using them for an experiment. For some reason there were some with eyeballs floating and eyeballs that had sunk to the bottom of the mugs.

"Sherlock, why are all the mugs filled with eyeballs?"

He stopped rubbing his temples and muttering. He opened his eyes and looked at me as if the answer was obvious.

"Sherlock, I can't read your mind."

"Experiment," he answered rolling his eyes.

"No shit Sherlock. But why eyes? In mugs!" I questioned.

"Bored," he answered monotonously.

"You're always bored! Next time you want to experiment with mugs, leave one so I can drink my tea!" I breathed. Living with Sherlock was like living with a child.

"You know what, I'm going out for a bit. Try not to blow anything up or shoot at any walls before I get back." I put on my light jacket as it looked like it was going to rain, and walked out.

**~(CHANGE OF POV)~**

"Alas poor Yorick! I knew him, Horario." Sherlock said to the skull. He had gotten up from the sofa and walked to the mantle. He loved to talk to the skull. It was a way for him to have human contact without human contact.

He walked over to John's computer, as it was closer than this own, turned it on and typed in the password (stopusingmycomputerSherlock), and logged on to his website to update with a post about tattoo ink.

He decided to check his email, something he hadn't done for almost a year. Most of the emails were spam mail which was deleted immediately. The emails he did open up were just confirmation emails that his updates to his website had been successful.

There was a group of emails that was not sent through the website, however. Sherlock quickly deduced that they were going to be untraceable by IP address. He also deduced that they would not carry a virus. He saw that he would sometimes get more than one a day. Sometimes he wouldn't even get an email for weeks from this anonymous person. He clicked to open the first one that was sent; its date indicated it was from nine months before

**1****st**** email**

_Hello, can't believe I didn't realize you had an email account. But now that I've found it…I'll leave you to deduce that Sherly._

He deleted that one. He skipped down to the 15th email.

**15****th**** email**

_Sherly, why aren't you responding to me? I'm ready to listen, if you're ready to talk._

He deleted that one too. He decided to check one more email.

**75****th**** email**

_Still not responding to me?! Doesn't matter. I saw you today. You look beautiful when you think. You should stop wasting your time with Dr. Watson. He doesn't appreciate your genius like he should. Like how I do. Trusting though, your Doctor Watson is. That's a __**GREAT**__ quality. I wish my boyfriend could be like that. But alas he knows my true self. He wouldn't trust me as far as he can throw me, in bed. He's loyal, though, like John. That must be why you like him so much. John, not my boyfriend. Loyalty is a very attractive quality. Wouldn't you agree? _

As Sherlock was reading the 75th email, he got another one. He usually wouldn't open it, but he decided why not? He was just going to delete it anyway.

_Finally reading your emails! Took you long enough. I was wondering if you'd forgotten me. Though that is doubtful. I've decided to set up a little game. Find me Sherlock. Find me. _

_P.S. Win the game, get the grand prize. Solve the riddles. _

**Riddle 1:**

_The monster is at the end of the book_

_Come find me to see what I took_

_Where am I _

**Riddle 2:**

_The monster at the end of the book_

_The noble doctor has now took_

_To catch the fiend behind this scheme_

_To waken from this awful dream_

_To save your Doctor from sure harm_

_Use your exquisite looks and charm_

_Your brain will deceive you _

_Don't try to over think_

_Everything will Sherly change_

_If you only blink_

_Two cubes you now must find _

_Each of a separate kind_

_In order to save the Doctor King _

_The Jabberwock Chessboard is the thing!_

_Three Pawns on the side of right_

_Followed by the gentle Knight_

_Leading forth the cunning Rook_

_Trailéd by the wise Bishop_

_The King is helpless you have seen _

_And requires rescue from his Queen_

Sherlock got up from the computer and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. He quickly typed John's number. The phone rang seven times before going to voicemail. Frustrated, Sherlock ended the call. He was about to call Lestrade, when Lestrade's number popped up on his phone. He answered it.

"Lestrade, I'm very busy at the moment, and you know that I prefer texting."

"It's not about a case Sherlock, it's about an email. Why are you sending strange emails around the department? I've already gotten two complaints today."

"I didn't send any emails-stay right where you are. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Sherlock hung up the phone, grabbed his coat and scarf, and stuck his phone in his pocket. He stalked out the door and hailed a cab to see the department of police.

**~15 minutes later~ **

"Show me the emails," Sherlock said upon seeing Lestrade.

"As always Sherlock, your salutations are riveting. Come on, to my office," Lestrade said. He led Sherlock to the office, the emails already on his desk monitor. Anderson and Sally were standing behind the desk looking at the computer.

Upon entering the office, Sherlock rudely said, "What are they doing here?"

"We got the other emails you sent, freak," Sally said curtly.

"Show them to me," Sherlock said flatly. "And I didn't send any emails to you."

"Then who did? Anderson asked.

"No idea. The emails, please." Sherlock walked behind the desk and saw the first one.

**Email one: Lestrade:**

_This division you are not_

_ You are merely a point in my plot _

_A Pawn you are to help the Queen_

_To help wake him from this dream_

_A way to help save his loyal King_

**Email two: Donavan:**

_Pick yourself up and dust yourself off_

_Though you think the Queen mad_

_Don't be too cross_

_To find the king_

_And to find me_

**Email three: Anderson: **

_You should take this with a grain of salt_

_None of this is your fault_

_Yet you are needed _

_But not to lead_

_That's the Queen's play _

_Go on _

_You have to help out_

_Go on make my day_

_Don't try to get out of it _

_Don't you dare pout_

Sherlock read the emails twice.

"Do you know what it means Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes."

"Are you going to be sharing that information with us?" Anderson asked, rolling his eyes at the consulting detective.

"Yes," Sherlock closed his eyes and breathed. "You three are the 'pawns on the side of right.'"

"The Pawns? On the what? The who? What are you saying Sherlock?"

"Before you called I got an email-"

"Oh, Freak has a friend," Sally interrupted.

"As I was saying, I got an email that said 'Two cubes you know must find, each of a separate kind, in order to save the Doctor King, the Jabberwock Chessboard is the thing, three Pawns on the side of right, followed by the gentle Knight, leading forth the cunning Rook, trailéd by the wise Bishop, the King is helpless you have seen, and requires rescue from his Queen." Sherlock paused for a moment, then continued."So obviously this is the sender telling me that you three are 'the Pawns on the side of right.'"

"What the hell does that mean?" Anderson asked.

"Who's the 'Doctor King'?" Sally said at the same time.

"The Jabberwock reference refers to Lewis Carrol, he wrote a nonsense poem entitled "Jabberwocky," or at least that's what it could be. I haven't seen or heard the word being referenced in anything else other than in the Alice in Wonderland or Through the Looking Glass stories." Lestrade supplied.

Sally, Anderson and Sherlock looked at Lestrade.

"I read the stories as a kid, alright! I did have a life before I became a D.I., and yes, that does include a childhood," Lestrade said. He added the last part for Sherlock, who didn't really care that Lestrade was once a child. Since Sherlock had only known Lestrade as an adult, he didn't care about the time that he hadn't known Lestrade.

"Right," Sherlock said regaining his composure. "It does reference Lewis Carrol. Hence the Jabberwock reference. And the fictional world of Wonderland was designed to "look" like a chessboard."

It was time for Sally, Anderson and Lestrade to now stare at Sherlock.

"Contrary to your belief, I wasn't beamed down from the mother-ship."

Anderson's face reddened. He had been talking to the people of the department about how he didn't think Sherlock was human. He didn't know Sherlock has heard the rumor.

"Who are the gentle Knight and the cunning Rook? Who's the wise Bishop?" Lestrade asked.

"I don't know yet," Sherlock admitted. His phone beeped. He answered it.

"Hello…What email-never mind…Where can I meet you? Really, again? Well alright." Sherlock said into his phone.

Lestrade, Sally and Anderson looked at the consulting detective. He put his phone back into his pocket and looked up at them.

"What?"

"You nearly sounded human!?" Anderson said.

"We all have our flaws."

"Better be off. Oh and do be at the ready, I'll be in need of assistance quite soon I suppose."

Sherlock walked out of the police department and got into the car that was waiting for him, sent by his brother.

He walked into the Diogenes Club and entered the Strangers Room. It was the only room in the club where it was allowed to speak.

"Ah, Sherlock," Mycroft said, putting down his tea.

"Mycroft, the email."

"Not even a 'Hello!' In any case, I've printed the email out for you."

**Mycroft's Email: **

_British Government or not _

_I've roped you in as part of my plot _

_Don't you be mean_

_Or Down with the Bloody Red Queen_

_(Get Sherlock) _

Sherlock read through the email twice.

"You know what this means of course," Mycroft said taking a sip of tea.

"Of course I know what it means!"

"John's been kidnapped…by Moriarty…and now I have to help or it will cost me my life, or more importantly my job." Mycroft said. "Ask me."

Sherlock blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Mycroft said. "Ask me." There was a beat of silence. "Well, go on."

"Will you help me?" Sherlock asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes, I'll help you. Now was that so hard?"

"Yes, it was extremely painful."

Mycroft chuckled. "You were always overdramatic."

Sherlock's phone beeped. It was a message from Molly. Sherlock had asked her to keep an eye on an experiment of his. He was pleased to hear that the results were ready.

"Goodbye Mycroft. I hope you enjoy the food. I hear they have an excellent pudding," Sherlock said, sauntering out of the room.

**~At St. Bart's~**

"Hello Sherlock. I have the results for your experiment. It's quite interesting really, 'Coagulation of blood in lungs with a comparison of smokers versus nonsmokers.'"

"Yes it was rather fascinating, wasn't it?"

"Only you would think about this. It's quite strange…speaking of strange, what was with the email you sent me?" Molly asked.

"What? I never sent you an email! Can I see it?" Sherlock asked.

"Sure." Molly went around to her computer and put the email on the screen.

**Molly's email:**

_Galloping on your mighty horse_

_Fearless to help your Queen of course_

_The moves you have come in three_

_Come and play my game with me_

_O lovely knight _

_Don't fear the fight_

_No harm shall come _

_To such a pure sweet dove _

_You'll help save the king _

_When push comes to shove_

"Do you know what it means?" Molly asked.

"I have found my gentle knight," Sherlock answered.

"Thank you?" Molly replied, confused.

"I mean you're going to…I mean you're supposed to help save John, I can't do this without you," Sherlock stuttered.

"What happen to John?" Molly asked.

"Kidnapped, again, by Moriarty."

"Oh I'll help you alright. Moriarty is a creep!" Molly shuddered in anger. "Why does he even kidnap him? You'd think that Moriarty get bored repeating an action he's already done,"

"You know what they said about insanity: that it's doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results," Sherlock answered.

"Didn't Einstein say that?" Molly asked.

"He did, but I felt it accurately described the situation."

"You're not wrong. Well go on. Go save John. Don't worry, your gentle knight is on your side."

"Molly Hooper, you are amazing."

"I know," Molly smiled.

Sherlock left the morgue and went back to Baker St. If anything he needed to look into John's email to see if Moriarty sent John any of the emails.

**~At Baker St.~**

In the mind palace, unaware of his surroundings, Sherlock's body was completely ridged. His heart thumped in his chest as his brain sorted through the information to help save John. His muscles were not in use as his brain, his most important muscle, made connections. The one thing that was abundantly clear above all else was the lack of his "wise Bishop." He absentmindedly got up from the sofa and walked to his violin. It was a Stradivarius, a gift from his mother and the most beautiful thing he owned. He started playing, staring out of the window, and not looking at anything in particular, letting his body take control of the instrument and stringing together a melody. His muscle memory relished in the familiar movements, but his ears barely registered the sound as he moved his fingers and the bow expertly along the instrument. He considered the Strad to be an extension of his mind and body, a way to say things without speaking and think without distractions, a way to emote without those pesky emotions.

"Sherlock, dear, are you okay?" Mrs. Hudson asked, snapping Sherlock out of his trance.

"Mrs. Hudson? I didn't hear you come in."

"I knocked for two minutes, but you probably didn't hear me over your violin. But are you okay sweetie?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"What do you mean?"

"That song was very, very sad. I felt as though I'd lost something while listening to it…something important."

"Oh, I didn't realize."

"Were you in your mind palace again dear?"

"Yes. What did you want to ask me?" Sherlock asked.

"How did you know that I wanted to ask you something?"

"You never enter my flat unless I've yelled for you, John asked you to come up to check on me or you need something. You also won't come up unless I'm making a racket and even then you wait to be invited in. I haven't yelled for you. John hasn't asked you to check on me. Ergo you need something."

"Yes, I need you to explain this letter. Why did you send such a strange message? Is it for another experiment?"

"What letter? Can I see it?" Sherlock asked.

"Um, of course dear," Mrs. Hudson said, confused. "I'll just go and get it."

Sherlock waited ten minutes for Mrs. Hudson to get the letter. A letter; she didn't text even though her phone had the capabilities, she didn't really care for computers, her age gave that away.

"Here you are Sherlock, the letter," Mrs. Hudson said as she gave Sherlock the letter.

**Mrs. Hudson's Letter:**

_A wise woman forced in a diagonal line_

_Something has been taken_

_From the Queen _

_Now it's mine._

_Help the Queen play the game_

_For it is afoot_

_If you try to get out of helping_

_The King will be kaput. _

_A Bishop you are _

_Both the King's and the Queen's _

_Even if they both _

_Can get a little mean. _

_You love them just as much _

_As you do your own_

_You will help bring the King _

_Safely home._

"So Sherlock, do you know what it means?"

"It means you are the Wise Bishop."

"And what does that mean?"

"John's been kidnapped by Moriarty. Again. And now he's making me enlist the help of others to save him. You are apparently the Wise Bishop," Sherlock supplied.

"Apparently? You don't sound happy about that."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh Sherlock, that's so sweet of you to worry about me. But I'm tougher than I look. And it's John we need to help."

"You mean you'll help?"

"Well of course I'm going to help! You expect me to let you have all the fun? I may be older than you Sherlock, but I'm not going to let anybody harm John on my watch."

"Alright then, you're right."

"Now get to work. I'll make you a cuppa."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock went to John's computer and logged on to his website. He went to update his site:

**I have found the pieces to the Jabberwock Chessboard.**

Sherlock's phone beeped.

**It's time now Alice. Now that you've fallen down the rabbit hole you have twenty four hours. Tick Tock.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Beware the Jabberwock, my son!_

_The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!_

_Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun_

_The frumious Bandersnatch!_

Tick Tock. 24 hours. Fallen down the rabbit hole. Sherlock's brain went into overdrive. It was a clue in itself. It was also a warning.

_The monster is at the end of the book_

_Come find me to retrieve what I took_

_Where am I?_

That jumped into Sherlock's brain, fighting to show its usefulness. Riddles often had double meanings.

_To waken from this awful dream_

This too popped up to Sherlock's brain. _Another clue_. Despite the danger John was in, Sherlock smirked. Moriarty had clearly been planning this for a long time.

_Your brain will deceive you _

_Don't try to over think_

_Everything will Sherly change_

_If you only blink _

Cleary a restatement of the obvious from Moriarty. But more hints to Sherlock. Sherlock's brain started working. He had something! He had-

"Here you are Sherlock, some nice hot tea for you." Mrs. Hudson said, handing Sherlock the tea.

He had tea.

"Right, thank you Mrs. Hudson," he took the tea from Mrs. Hudson. She turned and left, knowing Sherlock needed this quiet to think.

What was the thought he had? He sipped the tea. His brain started working again. He smiled. When in doubt: keep calm, carry on and drink tea. Tea seemed to be the answer to everything, at least according to John. Oh! The thought, there it was again!

John was at a library.

Of course! It was so obvious now! That being said, everything in hindsight is.

In the Disney movie Alice fell asleep reading. In dreams everything can change in the blink of an eye. In the older Disney movie, the whole story was a dream.

The monsters were the Jabberwocky and the Bandersnatch. While they were not necessarily at the end of the book, Sherlock still awarded Moriarty points for creativity.

Going back to the dream sequence, your brain tricks you, your brain, while you're asleep, works though problems that your conscious mind might not be aware of. If you try to analyze your dreams, or find meaning where there isn't any, you deceive yourself just as much as your brain tricks you.

So obviously a library, why all this referencing? What was the point? There was a piece of the puzzle that was not fitting. Sherlock shuffled though his brain trying to find the missing piece, when his phone beeped.

**I've decided to be nice. You will be getting more hints.**

Sherlock rolled his eyes, as his phone beeped again.

_Look before you leap_

_And with one eye open sleep_

_With your eyes you see, not look_

_You discover what I took_

_Fallen down the rabbit hole_

_Eyes of night and heart of coal_

_The loving Doctor has not much time_

_He begs of you to please him find_

_The first rule is to do no harm_

_That is not your Doctor's charm_

_The paradox of war and heart _

_Will soon tear you both apart_

_So hold forth your vorpal blade_

_The loving Doctor for to save_

_After a long and bloody fight_

_The heart and mind will again unite_

Sherlock read through the riddle. John was a paradox. A doctor, one who heals, and a soldier, one who kills. Sherlock thought about all the paradoxes he knew. The Grandfather paradox , the Schrödinger's cat paradox, the infinity paradox, even the paradox statement 'I'm lying to you right now.' John was more complicated than them all.

_ Tick Tock_

_Where did that come from? _Sherlock thought looking around.

They didn't have any analog clocks in the flat. The constant ticking as the second-hand passed around the face in a repetitive pattern was annoying, especially when someone was trying to think.

_Tick Tock _

_What the hell is ticking?_ Sherlock thought angrily. He took a deep breath. He checked his phone. Nothing new had come in. Not a text or email, not even a phone call.

_Tick Tock_

_ It's me!_ Sherlock realized. He was thinking of time. The time John had left. That's what was delaying his superhuman abilities of observation. He cared. "Damn human emotions!"

He looked at his phone one more time, willing it to light up with an incoming text message.

**Beep! **Went Sherlock's phone.

It was a new text message from Lestrade.

** We have a lead ****that we believe can help you find John. **

**-GL**

**~At the NSY~ **

"Sherlock, he says he knows you." Lestrade told Sherlock in confusion.

"Who is he?" Sherlock asked.

"He says his name is Sebastian Moran." Lestrade supplied.

"He's right. He's one of my Baker Street Irregulars. Where did you find him?" Sherlock asked confused.

"We didn't. He came here himself, said he had important information about the Jabberwocky."

"Let me talk to him." Sherlock demanded.

"Alright. Don't kill him." Lestrade advised.

Sherlock barged into the interrogation room.

"Sherlock!" Sebastian yelped when Sherlock grabbed his shirt.

"How long have you been working for Moriarty!?" Sherlock growled.

"I'm not! And I am no longer part of you Baker Street Irregulars either! I'm not working for either of you!" Sebastian growled back, removing Sherlock's hands from his shirt.

"I know you know him. You're-oh! You're his boyfriend." Sherlock's eyes widened when Sebastian looked down confirming his deductions. They sat down at the table that was in the interrogation room.

"I didn't know who he was at first, what he was at first. Now, I see his eyes as dark as night and his heart as black as coal."

"You could have left him,"

"John doesn't leave you." Sebastian countered.

"John and I aren't together, he's free to leave anytime he wants."

"Right," Sebastian snorted.

"You're not on his side, you're not on my side. Why are you even here?" Sherlock asked bluntly.

"I don't approve of what James-" Sebastian started.

"James?" Sherlock said, his face twisted in disgusted confusion.

"That's his name," Sebastian said in confusion.

"Doesn't matter," Sherlock waved the new information off with a wave of his hand.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Like I was saying, I don't approve of what James is doing to John."

"So you've decided to help me?" Sherlock asked bemused.

"Not entirely. I know a riddle that relates to your predicament, I have no idea what it means." Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair. _A nervous habit,_ Sherlock deduced.

"I'm listening," Sherlock said, his voice rude and bored in tone.

"What do you mean 'listening?'" Sebastian asked.

"Please, you obviously know what's happening. Not enough to tell me, of course. But enough to have an idea, or why else would you be here? You clearly memorized the riddle, so I'm waiting." Sherlock replied.

Sebastian took a deep breath and said:

"_All your life you've walked alone_

_Free of ties and free of home_

_A Wicked Heart shot in the dark_

_A deathly bullet meets its mark_

_With the trusty bullet seal_

_Both did the other heal _

_The two friends seem complete_

_A friendship true and bright and sweet_

_Listen carefully to my words_

_A warning and a way to save_

_If you don't it could send him _

_To an early grave_

_War decides who is left_

_Touching not the thought of right_

_A dastardly deed of daring theft_

_Your dear companion now must fight_

_Battle weary, heart is sore_

_A life time fighting world's despair _

_Surrounded all sides by blood and gore_

_You think it not an advantage to care _

_A beating heart 'neath the floor_

_No tell-tale signs shall you hear_

_Fear not wise hero, no harm has come _

_Your doctor is safe not buried there_

_Danger comes and danger festers _

_The wound's infection must be must be cured_

_A King is mocked by mere court jesters _

_The loyal Queen to his side is lured." _

Sherlock's face showed nothing. His eyes, were a different story, they showed analytical movement in the path to connect the clues from the earlier poems. John was safe. That much was clear.

"Well?" Sebastian asked hesitantly. He placed arms across his chest.

"You've given me everything I need. I'm done with you for now." Sherlock said as he sauntered out of the interrogation room.

"Get anything you need?" Donavon asked unconsciously picking at her nails. It was a shame, she had just gotten a manicure as a reward for not picking at them for a month.

"I got plenty of information, but none of it makes sense." Sherlock paused. "I hate riddles." He bit out.

"Are you any closer to figuring out where John is kept?" Donavan asked lightly.

"Slightly," Sherlock answered. He was sure there was no way she would be able to figure out where John was hidden, if he couldn't.

"Why don't you tell me? I'm pretty good at riddles." Sally tried.

_It can't hurt,_ Sherlock thought. They walked into Lestrade's office, which was unoccupied, and sat down in the chairs in front of the desk. Sherlock repeated the riddles to Sally.

"So who did you kill?" Was the first question out of her mouth.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked bemused. He blinked a few times for good measure. "I think I heard you wrong."

"You shot someone, and that's how you and John became friends. So who did you kill?" Sally repeated. She was no longer picking at her nails, which seemed to be a nervous habit. She was not nervous now. She was in her element.

"I didn't kill anyone." Sherlock said honestly. _She's better than I expected._

"We'll discuss this at a later time then yes?" Sally asked, but realized that they would not in fact ever discuss who was killed.

"Yes, of course." Sherlock agreed.

"John is safe, that's stated a bunch. But so are books, but not just any books, Lewis Carrol books. You knew that of course didn't you." Sally asked, waiting for confirmation from Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded.

"Edgar Allen Poe is mentioned as well." Sally continued.

"Who?" Sherlock interrupted confused. He started drumming his fingers against his leg.

"A poet, Sherlock," Sally explained.

_Right, I must have deleted that. _Sherlock thought. He nodded in understanding.

"Anyway, this refers to a library. I think you know this as well." Sally said scratching her forehead.

"I do, but go on." Sherlock sat back in his chair. _I should give Sally more credit. She is good at riddles._

"It refers to a library. It wouldn't be any library, it would be a library that has significance to you and John. Something that has to do with a case, maybe?" Sally asked moving her hand to her hair and tying it up in a ponytail.

Sherlock's eyes widened as he sat forward with realization. "I know where John is!"

"Where?" Sally asked. Her eyes widened too.

"Oh Sally! You are- give me a moment, I'm no good at compliments. You are brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Forget everything I've ever said about you!" Sherlock jumped up with excitement.

"You've said things about me?" Sally asked.

"Yes but that's not important now! I know where John is!" Sherlock started to head for the door but Sally grabbed his arm.

"Sherlock for once, tell me where someone is. You can't just yell out a color and expect everyone to understand. This is more important than us observing like you." Sally looked him in the eyes.

"He's at West Kensington Library." Sherlock said, understanding Sally's words. Sally took her hand off of Sherlock's arm.

"Sherlock do you know how to fire a gun?" Sally asked suddenly.

"Yes, if shooting at walls counts,"

"Why would you shoot walls? You know what, never mind that's a question for another day." Sally asked, then retracted. "Sherlock, I am about to give you the most important advise you will ever hear in your life. Wait." She said.

"I am waiting." Sherlock said impatiently. He stomped his foot against the floor for emphasis.

"No Sherlock, that's the advice. Wait. Don't go gallivanting without a plan. That's what lands you in trouble most of the time. You act rashly and recklessly. So wait. Give yourself some time to come up with a proper plan. You have a brain Sherlock; use it to come up with a smart plan. I don't know; try to make Moriarty come out of hiding to you." Sally corrected.

"I don't have time for that." Sherlock stated impatiently.

"Why?" Sally asked confused.

"Because Moriarty gave me a time limit. I have twenty four hours."

"And how many hours have passed since you got the time limit?" Sally asked. She began to pick at her nails again.

"One and a half. At the most two."

"Then we have enough time to think of a plan. It won't kill you."

Sherlock hesitated. He knew he could go in without a plan. He could make everything up as it went along, he could do that brilliantly. Maybe something would blow up. Maybe that something would be John. A plan seemed to his best option for retrieving John safely.


End file.
